


Afternoon Sunshine

by aryas_zehral



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Memories, Pre-Slash, Vanilla Kink, fluffiest kink bingo fill ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryas_zehral/pseuds/aryas_zehral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exhausted from a case, Lewis is thinking about Val and their life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afternoon Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink bingo square "vanilla kink" but actually fluffy angst.

Robbie pushed open the door to the house with a deep sense of weariness. He had been up most of the night before trying to break a case as well as most of the night before that. Now, with witnesses statements taken and the culprit locked up and awaiting processing, he had finally switched off and come home. 

It was only four and he felt a bit guilty for being home when he would, on an ordinary day, be at work until at least five. But Innocent had watched him gaze blankly at his computer screen, while he didn't even notice her at the office door for several minutes, let alone heard her say his name the first several times, before ordering him home. James had smiled at him, nodded in false but fond understanding at his annoyance, before telling him to go home, eat something and get some rest. James had been up just as long as Robbie but the decades of difference in their ages allowed him the energy to keep going. Robbie should just retire and let the young 'uns take over the force. He'd done his time.

Rubbing his face, he made his way towards the kitchen. He should make some dinner. He stumbled slightly, hitting the bannister of the stairs as he walked. Something simple then. Beans on toast. He could manage a toaster and shoving a plastic pot into the microwave. He didn't feel like something that dull, staid, single. When Val had been alive he would never have had such a thing for dinner. She would have had food ready in the fridge, leftovers to be reheated, or something proper made. She'd have grumbled at him, told him it was his turn next and he would have promised and sincerely meant it with all the privilege of a man who had grown to expect being looked after. He'd only cooked on special occasions: her birthday, occasionally their anniversary, or when she was sick or visiting relatives when he had grumbled and complained and burnt the food because he was useless at such things.

Back then, the kids would have been here too. Mark and Lyn would have been tearing round the house, shouting at each other. Lyn would have been on the phone in the living room driving up his phone bill and he would have snapped at her, reminded her not to call anyone ‘til after six, and Mark would have sneered at her before stomping outside to hang with his friends on street corners or in one of their houses. Val would have on the radio or the telly and the house would never have been quiet, not like it is all the time now. 

Sometimes he thinks he should sell this place, move on, move out. But then he thinks he would miss the ghosts of years past, of raising a family, of seeing them grow up and move on, of the quiet times just after they left but when Val was still here with him, smiling and laughing and telling him to sit down when he walked in the house this exhausted.

Or maybe she would have been at the sink, looking out into the garden, bathed in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, painting the floor, her hair diffusing the light around her like a halo. He would have wandered up behind her, slid his hands along her waist and around to cross on her belly, tucking his head on her shoulder, breathing her in and smiling against her skin. He'd have murmured about the garden, half looking outside, planning what work needed done over the summer even though the work never got done. And she would have smiled, ducked her head in that fond, ticklish way she always did when he pressed a kiss to her neck, hands covered in suds and smelling of **Fairy** coming up to push his head away. He would have captured her hand, murmured something about how soft they were, and she would turn in his arms to smile and make a comment about "hands that do dishes". He would have pressed his lips to the palm of them, slid his hands up to her face, cupping it as he leaned in to kiss her. And it would have been normal and glorious, it would have been familiar and loving and everything that he could have wished for. Everything that he still wished for. Everything that he had lost.

There was a noise at the front door and he turned, eyebrow rising slightly although not in alarm, as he recognised the tall, lean silhouette on the other side of the glass. He didn't move to open the door, wearily poised between memories of his past and his partner at the door, but he knew he didn’t have to. James had long since had keys to the house. 

"You look beat," James stated, walking in, walking past him into the kitchen. He had a plastic bag in each hand and the scent of Chow Mein hit Robbie like a freight train, making his stomach grumble and remind him that he was there. “I figured you’d be too tired to make food and Innocent sent me home so...”

For a moment, Robbie didn't move as he watched James walk into the patch of sunlight he had been picturing Val in. Robbie watched as James placed the bag on the worktop then moved with ease and familiarity around the kitchen, gathering plates from the one cupboard and pint glasses from another and cutlery from a drawer. He saw James serve up the food and pour beer into the glasses, can in one hand and glass in the other as he poured them over the sink to avoid any spills, so consistently careful. And Robbie noticed that, even though he hadn't the hair for it, the light still bathed James, still lit him up, as it had done Val all those years ago. His heart ached as he wondered if he could walk up behind James and lay his hand on his waist and look out into the garden. He blinked at the thought, not sure where it had come from, head tilting as he considered how normal the scene was, how familiar James was in his kitchen, in his _life_. 

As if he had felt him watching James turned his head, looking towards him and smiled. "Are you going to stay by the door all night or would you like to eat?" 

Robbie smiled at him, more awake now, and stepped forward towards him, taking the proffered glass from his hand, and blinking away memories of the past. He smiled.


End file.
